


Quiet contemplations and company

by WhiteBeakedRaven



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Administrator Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Internal Monologue, Introspection, Prison, Starvation, Tommy is literally asleep for the most of it, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:34:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29675685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteBeakedRaven/pseuds/WhiteBeakedRaven
Summary: Tommy is stuck in a cell with Dream. Dream is stuck in his cell with Tommy.As they are trapped in each others company, the resident Admin lets his thoughts wander.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 199





	Quiet contemplations and company

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something that wouldn't leave my mind after the stream, written in a few short hours. Probably gonna be completely canon-divergent in the upcoming prison streams, but I liked writing it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Tommy was in prison.

A strange thought after all this time. Weeks ago, it had been Dream's intentions to transport him here. Maybe not in this cell, but at least in the prison itself. Locking him away. The boy still capable of bringing attachment to the world, but without the added attribute of all the chaos and fighting that normally trailed after him like a stray dog.

Those had been his thoughts. Maybe. He wasn't sure.

In-between all the hundreds of possible angles and plans Dream had had in store, that had probably been one of the more pronounced ones. It had sounded like a good plan at the time.

It didn’t sound like a good plan now.

Strange, what weeks upon weeks alone in a prison cell could do to one’s opinions. Dream had had more than enough time to overthink everything, taking apart every single instance and decision, taking the pieces and building a new picture, a new realization out of it.

Somes even several times in quick succession with different conclusions.

But that wasn’t important now. What was important, was, that the self-proclaimed man of the server was now stuck with Dream in his cell. For up to a week.

Normally the Admin would have been glad for the company. However, he wasn’t as glad as he should be.

Dream hadn’t been lying when he said he had had nothing to do with the TNT. His plans were better than that.

Had the goal been escape he would have been long gone and had the goal been to cause a security issue to let someone be trapped with him, he would have taken any of his other past visitors over Tommy.

He may be fond of the boy, but he had had his chance at undermining his mind and it hadn’t worked. Dream wasn’t dumb enough to try again, now that Tommy knew how he operated. Now that he knew to be on the lookout.

And cautious he had been.

In the hours Tommy had been locked inside, Dream hadn’t managed to get many words in. The teenager had intermittently been screaming and swearing, interrupted by short instances of quiet contemplative mumbling, only to get back to the shouting. Most of it had been directed at Dream.

Dream had mostly tiredly watched after his last burst of annoyance, where he had told Tommy in no uncertain terms that he was being dumb for not accepting the circumstances. Afterwards he had been quiet.

Soon he had relocated to one of his safe spots, leaning against an obsidian wall that wasn’t too hot to touch and free of the constant violet drops.

There he had continued his observations, seeing the teenager pace frantically up and down the cell, tugging at his hair and switching his expressions constantly from despair to sadness, to a bit of hope and despair again. It was actually quite interesting to watch, seeing every thought flit over a human face again.

The Warden certainly had never shown what had been going on in his mind, except maybe his brief instances of annoyance. Mostly directed at his only prisoner.

Dream also remembered having such an expressive face, being open about every feeling, his signature mask only covering his thought process in fights, pushed to the side the rest of the time. That had changed as well, the mask covering his eyes more and more often during the first war, only to not be seen without it after the first peace treaty had been achieved. Becoming a staple to Dreams image that he hadn’t broken until it had been taken from him at his capture many weeks ago.

Underneath it he had been safe, he could think and feel whatever he had wanted and his enemies hadn’t been any wiser. His friends hadn’t been either.

Dream didn’t have his mask in prison, being bared naked for the world to see. Luckily his feelings had already been so muted by then, that it hadn’t made a real difference, face more often than not stuck in a neutral emotionless expression.

So with uncovered, almost seemingly dead eyes Dream had witnessed Tommy raging against the world and everyone in it, throwing blame after blame at the Admin, cursing him out with almost every bad word he knew. Slowly losing his steam, his energy, as hour after hour passed in the hot air of the cell.

He had become quieter and quieter, not pacing with large steps anymore, but beginning to trudge through the sweltering heat and the intermittent cool violet tears of the crying obsidian. Subsequently, after something more than a day or two had passed, the boy had finally sat down as well, silence finally overtaking the room.

The entire process reminded Dream strongly of his first few days in this hellhole.

The ensuing silence had stayed, as Tommy, exhausted by everything, fell asleep sitting up, across from Dream. That had taken another few hours, the boy fighting against his natural need for rest, only to lose miserably.

Dream was almost jealous.

Sleep was a luxury that was still barred from him, no matter how tired he was or how often he tried. It had been that way for many months.

So yeah, Dream was stuck in his cell with an overactive, now sleeping teenager, who really didn’t like him and he still had no clue what those explosions had been on about. But he could speculate.

Was there anyone willing on the server to break the big bad Dream out of Pandora’s Vault?

A few possible suspects came to mind, but Dream didn’t have enough information to pin down someone for certain. The Warden wasn’t really forthcoming on the going ons of Dreams world and the Admins normal connection to his lands had been dulled by the chunks of the prison and its obsidian walls.

Dream could only get flashes and whispers of what was going on outside, leaving him even more exhausted than the heat and starvation already left him. It was enough to get some small ideas of the happenings in his worlds, but a lot of it had also been built on the speculations and interpretations of what he had seen and heard.

Even now, as Dream concentrated, he only got snippets of conversations, the tens of steps on the chunks of his world and a few general feelings. Tommy was apparently mentioned in a lot of them, often coupled with the feelings of fear, worry and…

…Elation?

Interesting.

It seemed Tommy wasn’t as looked up to as he thought. Maybe the explosions had been timed, but not to get Dream out, but to lock Tommy in.

That plan however could only be from someone who knew about the security measures, who knew about the waivers.

A past visitor?

Or had the information of the prison procedures already spread to the rest of the SMP members?

It frustrated Dream that he didn’t know. He really was stuck with his half-formed theories and conclusions, trying to piece together a puzzle for which he just didn’t have all the pieces. Or had almost none and tried to create his own, from the ones he already got, to get the same picture.

A snore cut through the constant bubbling of the lava.

Dream looked back to his temporary roommate.

Tommys neck had followed the pull of gravity, laying awkwardly on his chest, the rest of his body still leaning against the dark obsidian. He had complained about the heat of the stone at the beginning, but it seemed the discomfort of the constant burn hadn’t been enough to keep him from sleep. He would get used to it, the same way Dream had.

He was going to develop a sore neck, sitting like that.

Briefly, Dream contemplated waking him up to stop that from happening. He decided against it, not yet ready for another round of call outs from a grouchy teenager. Tommy would need all the sleep he could get, if he wanted to survive the week without any lasting marks from the prison. Unlikely to happen, but Dream could try.

The Admin would miss him when he was gone.

Already the last few hours had been more contact to another human being, than he had had in all the months before combined. Even just the presence, the silent breathing and sometimes shifting of the sleeping person, was enough to get a small pool of happiness bubbling in his core.

The thought of being deprived of it again scared him.

He wouldn’t know what would happen, after getting a taste of company after so long, only to lose it again anyway. He wouldn’t know how he would react, what he would do…

A splashing sound brought him out of his thoughts.

Quietly groaning, Dream got up on stiff legs, walking over to his respawn waterhole. A few raw potatoes were now swimming in its waters. He collected and counted them carefully.

Sixteen.

That wasn’t enough for Dream alone most of the time. Not enough for him to heal, as his purpling bruises from before the visit and from when Tommy painfully pounded into his body in anger and frustration showed. Not enough for him to be truly active, as his slowly atrophying muscles displayed. Not enough for him to be full, as his grumbling stomach sounded.

It just wasn’t enough for him alone until the next deposit, not to mention with the boy here.

Maybe Sam would up the number of the next one to account for Tommy as well?

Dream could only hope, as powerless as he was in this place.

He walked over quietly to the sleeping teenager, steps unnoticeable in between the bubbling and dripping. For a moment he stood before the sleeping body, watching with tired but keen eyes. Taking in the mop of blond hair and the still somewhat clean clothes. Seeing the relaxed face, with only flickers of passing dreams on it.

Then he turned around and went back to his spot, leaving the boy to his rest and returning to his own swirling thoughts.

A small pile of twelve potatoes waiting at the young man’s feet for him to wake up to.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little snippet I don't have any real plans on expanding upon. I took the liberty to include some of the headcannons from my series into it.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism and comments are welcome down below.  
> Wish you all a great day or night and stay safe!


End file.
